Mentors never really know how important they are to a student. I’ve now had my share of students, and I am always a bit surprised to learn that I matter. Part of it is their replicability – we are fortunate to live in a world where many people want to learn. Every student is distinct, and I remember them, but they go on with their lives and I go on with mine, and the wheel keeps turning. Now as a student, I also know that if we are lucky, and I mean that special cosmic lucky that defies expectations, we get maybe one or two mentors who fundamentally (and usually, accidentally) reshape us. They teach us stuff, but most importantly, they teach us who we are, why we are, what we could and should be. It’s these twin threads pulling me in different directions that I feel now that I’ve heard that Peter Gregory has passed. I loved Peter. Peter helped make me who I am today, and also, I was just a student. This is just what Peter did, and I am not particularly special.
I first met Peter when I was finishing my BA at UMass in Chinese Language and Literature. Jay Garfield, who had corrupted me with Buddhist studies and Bohemian values (and also a fair amount of Scotch), led me to the unwise choice to go into an MA program mostly to work with Peter in Chinese Buddhism. My final undergraduate semester, I joined Peter’s class at Smith on Guanyin and Gender. That class marked my first real exposure to the sort of teacher who was right for me.